The First Day
by Potterworm
Summary: Before Wintergirls, before a body found in a motel room alone, there was just Lia and Cassie, and they were not friends anymore. This is the first day.


**Author's Note: **I wrote this for my Young Adult literature course and decided I should post it. Enjoy? Also. Sorry, but this website won't let me align right. The italicized parts are supposed to be right aligned, like in the novel.

**Summary: **Before _Wintergirls, _before a body found in a motel room alone, there was just Lia and Cassie, and they were not friends anymore. This is the first day.

**The First Day**

I wander downstairs, eyes half-closed from sleep. As I walk into the kitchen, Emma barrels into me. "School, school, school," she says, reaching into the cabinet and grabbing a pop tart.

… _school, school, school…_

I ignore Jennifer's eyes narrowing at the sight of the pop tart. I get a cup from the cabinet and, feeling her eyes on me, filled it with ice water from the fridge. On a good day, I could get away with just making an appearance in the kitchen, just filling a cup with something. She preferred juice or milk, saying I was getting too thin. I preferred water, thinking – never saying – that she was clearly a blind idiot.

…_fat, fat, fat…_

"Okay, well we're all running a little late this morning, so Lia, can you drive Emma to school? I have to get to work for a presentation," Jennifer says, scrolling desperately through the calendar on her phone.

"Sure," I say. It would have been nice to have more than a five second warning, but who cares what I look like anyway? Shit. Cassie does did.

Suddenly, the thought of going to school in sweat pants – my pajamas of choice – and a tank top sounds horrendous. "I'll be ready in five minutes, Emma," I tell her.

She nods, okay, cheeks filled with chocolate fudge pop tart. There's a streak of the fudge filling stuck on her lips.

I sprint upstairs, taking clothes off as I close my door. I look in the mirror for a second, planning my outfit, but find myself pausing. I stare at myself – _hard – _then swallow. "Okay," I whisper to myself. I grab my skinniest jeans from a pile on the floor – double 00 – and a T-shirt that makes my boobs look huge (Cassie told me herself) and my waist look tiny.

…_."We're not friends anymore, Lia"..._

I will look the best I ever have in my life. I rip through my hair with a brush, do two sprays of perfume, thank God I showered last night, step into my flats, and run some lip gloss over my lips.

It's not perfect, but it'll have to do. I run downstairs, ten minutes after "five minutes, Emma" and drive her to school.

THEFIRSTDAYTHEFIRSTDAYTHEFIRSTDAY

Walking into school is hell.

…_. "We're not friends anymore, Lia"…_

There's the jocks and the art freaks and the drama geeks and the Glee kids and there's Cassie, standing at her locker – right next to mine. I approach slowly, like she's a spooked animal – or like I'm the hunter and she's the prey. When I'm finally within talking distance, she sees me in her locker mirror, grabs her books, slams the locker shut, and turns to walk away.

"Cassie?"

"No."

…"_We're not friends anymore, Lia"…_

Fine. I go to class.

…_**We're not friends anymore…**_

THEFIRSTDAYTHEFIRSTDAYTHEFIRSTDAY

I had been thinking about lunch since the moment she cornered me after school yesterday and said, "We're not friends anymore, Lia." I had stood there – stunned – mouth, gaping open.

"What the fuck?" I had said. Cassie reacted to the curse like it was a slap in the face, her nostrils flailing, her body straightening, preparing itself for battle.

"We haven't been friends, I don't think, for a long time. You've been encouraging me to have an - " she lowered her voice to a whisper "eating disorder." She looked to make sure no one had heard. "A real friend wouldn't do that. A real friend wouldn't want me to get sick and wouldn't try to manipulate me into not getting better."

"I didn't!" I protested immediately.

… _**I did…**_

"I'm gonna go," she said, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Just… don't call me."

I felt like I was going to throw up, and then all I could think about was how I was too much of a goddamn loser to actually make myself throw up when it counted. "Cassie!" I protested, as she walked away, but she didn't turn around.

And now, lunch. Now, I am going to have to go into the cafeteria – already my least favorite place in the school – and find somewhere to sit. Find someone who doesn't mind me sitting with them. Find something to eat, but not too much, and not too little, so that person who finds me sitting with them won't be weirded out by what I'm (not) eating.

I take a deep breath. Okay. Here we go.

THEFIRSTDAYTHEFIRSTDAYTHEFIRSTDAY

I chicken out. I took one step into the cafeteria, saw the three hundred faces I didn't mind seeing and then – Cassie walked by me, laughing at something one of her _new friends _said – the one I did. I whirled right around and went into the bathroom.

I'm sitting in the stall. I'm not the first girl to do this. In fact, there's a weird group of girls – all of them friends – who eat in the bathroom every day. Cassie and I used to joke that they made themselves puke, but I've been in here twenty minutes and they haven't yet. I'm not eating though, not eating chicken patty (180) or fruit cup (25) or string cheese (32). I'm not drinking soda (120) or even water (0).

I can't leave.

…_We're not friends anymore…_

I stay until the end of the period when I hear the door open. I recognize her footsteps like I recognize my favorite song. I see her purple flats with the bows on them as she walks past my stall. I lift my feet up, so she won't see.

I can't believe she saw me run out of the cafeteria and didn't follow me to make sure I was okay.

_**I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… I hate her… She's my best friend. What am I going to do?**_

She should vomit more. She looked fat in her outfit.


End file.
